Chapter 3 - THE BROTHER SHE COULDN'T ABANDON
Caitlyn arrived in Pennsylvania shortly after noon.
She hadn't planned the trip.
Luca had suggested that spending her unexpected leave near Tommy might help her recover.
For once, she accepted.
The rehabilitation center stood on a quiet hill outside Pittsburgh, surrounded by maple trees and carefully maintained gardens.
Caitlyn had chosen it after visiting twelve facilities.
Tommy needed specialized neurological therapy, assistance with mobility, and communication support.
He had been twenty-one when a drunk driver struck his car.
Before the accident, he played guitar in a small band and dreamed of becoming a music teacher.
Afterward, much of his life had changed.
But he still loved music.
And he still smiled whenever Caitlyn entered the room.
"Hey, troublemaker," she whispered.
Tommy sat beside the window in his wheelchair.
A communication tablet rested across his lap.
He lifted his left hand.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Then pressed two buttons.
YOU LOOK BAD.
Caitlyn laughed.
"Thank you. That's exactly what every girl wants to hear."
Tommy grinned.
She hugged him.
For several seconds, she held on longer than usual.
His hand rested against her shoulder.
Then he typed another message.
SLEEP?
"Eventually."
LIAR.
She laughed through tears.
"You're becoming very rude."
Tommy smiled.
Caitlyn sat beside him and opened a bag of pastries she'd bought on the way.
They spent the afternoon listening to music.
Tommy selected songs.
Caitlyn complained about his taste.
He accused her of being old-fashioned.
For a little while, everything felt normal.
Then the facility director asked to speak with her.
Dr. Rebecca Shaw was a compassionate woman with short silver hair and a habit of speaking plainly.
"Caitlyn, there's something I need to clarify."
Caitlyn's stomach tightened.
"The benefits?"
Rebecca nodded.
"We received several unusual communications."
"What kind?"
"Someone claiming to represent Hamilton Enterprises requested copies of Tommy's medical records."
Caitlyn went still.
"What?"
"They also asked about his long-term prognosis and whether his supplemental care would be financially sustainable."
"Did you send anything?"
"No. The request didn't satisfy our authorization requirements."
Relief rushed through her.
Then Rebecca continued.
"But the caller seemed to know a great deal about your employer."
Caitlyn's hands began trembling.
"Did they give a name?"
"Marcus Bell."
She stared.
Darius's general counsel.
The man who prepared the suspicious contract.
The man who had repeatedly pressured her to sign documents without questions.
Rebecca leaned forward.
"Do you know him?"
Caitlyn swallowed.
"Yes."
"Then I think you should speak with your attorney."
Caitlyn nodded.
The facility director handed her copies of the communications.
There were three emails.
All requesting information about Tommy.
One included an extraordinary question.
Would a reduction in the employee's compensation materially affect continuation of treatment?
Caitlyn read it twice.
Someone had been calculating exactly how much pressure she could endure before breaking.
She thought of the sleepless flights.
The endless assignments.
The threats.
Then she remembered something Marcus once said during a meeting.
"Everyone has a price, Miss Elmore. Yours is simply easier to calculate."
At the time, she'd believed he was insulting her salary.
Now she understood.
He meant Tommy.
She left the director's office feeling cold.
Back in Tommy's room, she tried to smile.
He studied her face.
Then typed:
BAD NEWS?
She sat beside him.
"Something complicated."
He pressed another button.
MY FAULT?
Her heart shattered.
"No."
She took his hand.
"Never."
Tommy looked unconvinced.
Caitlyn knelt beside his chair.
"Listen to me. Taking care of you is not a burden. You're my brother. I love you."
His eyes filled.
He typed slowly.
YOU NEED LIFE TOO.
Caitlyn covered her mouth.
For three years, she'd built every decision around keeping him safe.
She'd abandoned friendships.
Canceled vacations.
Refused dates.
Worked herself into exhaustion.
She told herself it was loyalty.
But now she wondered whether she had begun confusing sacrifice with love.
Tommy reached toward her.
She leaned forward.
He hugged her.
Awkwardly.
Tenderly.
Then typed:
BE HAPPY.
Caitlyn cried against his shoulder.
That evening, she called Darius.
He answered immediately.
"Miss Elmore?"
"Mr. Hamilton, I'm sorry to bother you."
"You're not bothering me."
She told him about the medical records requests.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then his voice turned dangerously quiet.
"Marcus contacted your brother's facility?"
"Yes."
"Do you have the emails?"
"I can send them to your attorney."
"Do that."
She hesitated.
"Mr. Hamilton?"
"Yes?"
"I don't think he was trying to make me resign."
Darius went still.
"What do you think he wanted?"
Caitlyn looked toward Tommy's room.
"I think he wanted me exhausted enough to approve something without noticing."
"Warehouse Seventeen."
"Yes."
Darius exhaled slowly.
Then asked, "Caitlyn, did Marcus ever ask you to use your credentials outside normal working hours?"
Her stomach tightened.
"Yes."
"When?"
"Last Tuesday. He said there was a permissions problem with the legal archive."
"Did you give him access?"
"No. I told him the request needed a second authorization."
Silence.
Then Darius said, "You may have prevented something much worse than a fraudulent contract."
Caitlyn closed her eyes.
"What?"
"Someone tried to access the historical ownership records for Warehouse Seventeen."
Her heartbeat accelerated.
"Why would that matter?"
Darius's answer was grim.
"Because the old records contain information about a death that was never properly investigated."
She swallowed.
"Whose death?"
A pause.
May you like
Then Darius said, "My father's."
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